10 Years Later
by M. the Inspector
Summary: Two possible epilogues for AWE. One is a short, grim look at how Will's visit might go ten years later. The other is much happier. RR!
1. Chapter 1

Spoiler alert.

10 years after the end of AWE. I wrote this after reading the draft script and before seeing the movie. It takes a much grimmer view of things than the movie seems to.

* * *

Dusk. The beach.

Elizabeth stands alone in the sand. She has her back to the water; she has spent enough hopeless days and nights staring out at it and thinks she will go crazy if she sees just one more wave.

She waits.

"Elizabeth." His voice, behind her.

She finds she can't face him. All the years she's spent dreaming of how their reunion would be, all the things she's rehearsed to say, all the times she promised herself she would be strong for him... and now all she can do is cry. It's not tears of happiness either, it's racking sobs that bring her to her knees, covering her face, helpless.

"Elizabeth..." He says it again, voice cracking this time. He holds out his arms to her but can't bring himself to take a step forward, because he fears it would be the one way to hurt her more than he has already.

"Elizabeth, please." He swallows hard, drops his hands, draws back a step into the surf. "I won't come back again," he promises her, voice shaking so badly even _he _can't make out the words.

"W- W..." She can't even say his name. Finally she looks over her shoulder at him, sees what's in his eyes, turns away again. "I can't..."

He breathes _Elizabeth _one more time and that's it; she's on her feet, gathering up her skirts and running away. Running as fast as she can, away from the pain and the memories and the memories they should have but don't. Away from him.

Will doesn't chase her. He doesn't leave, either. He stands there, silent and unmoving, saltwater streaming down his face. He stays there through the night and then at dawn, just... fades.

* * *

Day. The _Dutchman._

Will stands, same posture, still dripping what may be just seawater but is probably tears.

He has no idea what to do now. Last night was not what he's waited ten years for, and it is not going to sustain him. He has nothing left, not even enough to carry him through the day - much less the next thirty-six hundred of them. He whispers, "I can't do this."

"You must." Will starts, turns, and suddenly realizes his father's been standing beside him all morning.

"No." His throat jumps. "There must be a way."

"Jones tried twice - that I saw. God only knows how many times in total." Bootstrap says it without emotion, without pity, and just for a second WIll hates him for how he's made peace with their situation. "It's gruesome and miserable, Will, and it doesn't work," he goes on. "Afterwards, you're just as alive, just as hurt... and just as trapped." He cracks a smile that ordinarily would get Will all teary again, but today Will has nothing left to pity other people with. "Welcome to the _Dutchman_, son."

* * *

Night. A warm bedroom.

"...And so," Elizabeth finishes her story, "Still she waits, patient and faithful, waits forever for her husband even though she knows he's never coming home. And _that _is true love."

Her voice is a little choked suddenly. William is annoyed. "I don't like that story."

"Believe me, neither do I."

He is not paying attention to her. "It's silly! If the girl was really so unhappy, Mother, she would just go to sea herself and jump ship, and become a drowning sailor that he has to rescue. Then they'd be together. That's a much better ending."

She has tried very hard never to suggest this to herself. "Well, maybe the girl had people at home, a family, who would be very sad if she left them."

"Well if it was _that _important, she would go. She could take them _with _her. Obviously."

Elizabeth kisses him goodnight and puts out the light.

* * *

Rainy day. The _Dutchman_.

"Will! Will! Captain, come quick!" Bootstrap's voice is panicked.

Will strides across the deck, his steps heavier now, longer. He looks more and more like Davy Jones every day.

But when the crowd parts for him and he sees, he freezes up. He is suddenly lost and terrified and sixteen years old again.

The crew is gathered around a body, waterlogged, unmoving. It is Elizabeth.

Bootstrap kneels over her. "She's drowned, Captain. Give her the breath?"

Will is unable to act, so Bootstrap makes the decision for him - he tilts her head back, holds her nose closed, and breathes once into her lungs.

The change is immediate. As the fetid air of the _Dutchman_'s creature works its way into her body, Elizabeth gags. Shudders. Finally she opens her eyes and looks around.

She shifts her hand a little to feel that the chain is still there - she's wearing a manacle that attaches her to a chest with which Will is all too familiar...

It hits him then: she's packed. She's done this on purpose.

And the cold, still body of her son lying beside her... she's done that, too.

Elizabeth looks at the child and somehow knows what to do. No one stops her as she breathes the poison into him, and they all just watch in silence as it starts to take hold.

Will falls to a knee beside Elizabeth but his eyes are on his son. "We'll burn in Hell for this," he rasps. "For all eternity, we will burn."

Elizabeth reaches out to him then, puts both shaking hands to his cheeks. It is the first time she has touched him since he assumed his mantle. "No, Will." She turns his face towards her and tries to smile. "We'll sail."

* * *

The End. 

Review for me! I promise I'll try and envision them a happier future...


	2. Chapter 2

Didn't like my grim-assed epilogue? Try this one.

Takes place **one year after AWE**. A happier and less creepy vision of what the future might hold for Mr. and Mrs. Turner…

* * *

On the one-year anniversary of her marriage, Elizabeth Turner sat alone in her room, in the dark. The curtains were closed and would stay that way, the servants had orders that she was not to be disturbed, and even the baby would not be let in to see her. This day would be dedicated to thoughts of Will, and Will alone. 

A few hours into her vigil there was a knock at her door. She leaped up, the spell broken – she had just been reliving that one glorious day on the beach, the day she and Will had made man and woman of each other – and she was furious.

She yanked open the door all ready to bite a head off…

The screech died in her throat and she stared stupidly. "Bootstrap Bill?"

The man nodded and touched his cap to her. "Yes. Ha - I'm surprised you recognized me… you know, as a human."

"Well, I… I mean… What are you doing here?"

"Will can't come to shore." He voice grew suddenly very hoarse. "I'm sorry. My poor girl, there are no _words_ for how sorry I am. For what I've done to you… it was me, after all, it was my plight that drove Will to-"

"Please," she interrupted earnestly, "It's not your fault at all. Will made you a promise and of course he kept it."

He gave a short laugh. "And you love him despite that stupidity."

"_Stupidity _is not the word I'd use, sir, nor _despite._ Will is a good man and I love him _because _of it." She swallowed. "I don't think you came here to apologize."

"True. I came to bring you out with us for a bit. Will wants to see you."

"Will wants…" She had always assumed there was some kind of rule against bringing your lover aboard the _Dutchman_. Else why had Will not done it at once? Why had he not brought her to be with him, to share his fate-

"It comes at a price, you know," Bootstrap answered the questions before she could even speak them. "His neglect of his duty, even for just a moment, will cost him."

She forced herself to ask. "Cost him how?"

Bootstrap pulled aside his collar so she could see the four or five little barnacles that had sprung up on his neck like pimples. "I shouldn't be here, either."

* * *

Will was waiting for her in his cabin, pacing. His step was longer and heavier than she remembered, but she knocked on the door without fear. It was _Will_ for Heaven's sake, and ten thousand _years_ on a ghost ship could not change that. 

The pacing stopped. "Father?"

"No. Will? May I c-"

The door swung open and suddenly Elizabeth was gathered up in a bone-crushing embrace. She clung to him, tearing his shirt with the force of her grip, sobbed into his chest, gasped his name.

Finally he let go and held her at arms length so he could look at her. She looked back, dizzy with relief when she saw that he still looked normal. No tentacles, not just yet anyway. "Will," she breathed again. "Oh, God-" They lunged at each other and dove into a long, deep kiss. It was not at all graceful – their hands were tangled in each other's hair yanking hard enough to hurt, and their teeth clicked awkwardly together as they tried to cram twelve months of passion into one fierce minute.

Elizabeth suddenly tasted blood and Will pulled away. "I'm sorry," he whispered, touching her lip where it had gotten caught between them. " Elizabeth. You came."

She shoved him weakly. "Of course I came, you fool," she said over her tears. "I would always come the moment you send for me. Will…" She took a deep breath. She hated to bring up unpleasant subjects so quickly, but she couldn't relax while she knew there was bad news waiting. "Your father said something about a price… that when your attention turns to me instead of your ship, you'll suffer…"

He shook his head. "It's not bad so far, and I can take it. I had to be with you." He knew her better than to tell her to forget it sight unseen, so he slowly unbuttoned his shirt all the way and dropped his hands to his sides.

She slid it off for him and looked at the place where his heart had been cut out. The tough pink scar tissue had changed to an unhealthy greenish-brown color and was now soft and spongy to the touch. She swallowed. "That's it?"

"For now, yes. Can you bear the sight of it?"

Elizabeth bent and pressed a kiss to his nipple, a mere two inches from the deformity. "I don't care what you look like. I don't care what happens to you. I want to be with you, Will, and I don't care about anything else."

He couldn't keep his hands off her. Cradling her face while he talked, stroking over her cheekbones and her lips, he explained that even so, she could not stay. "I don't care about anything else either. All I want for myself is you beside me, and I know there will be times – like today – when I can no longer resist. The problem is, Elizabeth… for my each and every lapse, it's not just me, but also all my men who will suffer. I have a responsibility to them that I cannot take lightly."

She tried to smile. "As long as you still think like that, Will Turner, it means you're doing your job and I'll never have to worry about you sprouting tentacles."

"If I play by the rules…"

"Then you can return to shore for a bit in nine more years. I'll be counting the days. So will William, when he gets old enough to count." She smiled at Will's look of shock.

"_William?_ You mean I… have a son?"

Elizabeth laughed and took his hands. "Your father said, _You mean I have a grandson?_ in exactly the same way. Yes. And he's here, on deck." Her hands moved up to his bare chest. "And you can go see him – just as soon as we finish making him a sister."

He shivered hard at her touch and tried to say _Elizabeth__ I love you_, but before he could get the words out he was kissing her again. And it seemed to get the point across.

* * *

The End.

A much, much happier epilogue than my other one. Let me know what you think!


End file.
